THE SAMURAI 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE 



BY 



GEORGE MACDONALD MAJOR 




BROOKLYN 

ERNEST J, CHAPMAN 

MCMII 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



TO 

LAFCADIO HEARN 

TOKYO, JAPAN 



Appreciation and homage from 

\JL f.'f"^ ' 









IHt LIBRARY Of 
CONGHI-SS, 

Two Copies Received 

m 9 t9o? 

ACopyngnt cntiy 

CLASS Cf XXc. No. 

COPY B. 



f fff 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



THE SAMURAI 



CAT^TTO FIRST. 



I. 

The castle of the Samurai 

Is stippled on the moon, 
That, in the dewy, midnight hours, 
AvScends behind its purple towers 

Like some huge white balloon. 

II. 

The Samurai's rich lamps are trimmed, 

Outside his vassals sleep. 
But, musing, in his room alone, 
He hears the shaven priests intone, 

High up the templed steep. 

III. 

His wife, Wisteria-Flower, has gone 
To cheer her stricken sire — the dews 

Are shining on her cherry flowers ; 

The Samurai, in vain, for hours, 
The god of Slumber sues. 



THE SAMURAI. 



IV. 
The lanterns throw a golden glow 

Upon the rare Satsuma vase, 
That in the corner stands, and shine 
A halo 'round the face divine 

Of Buddha, in the altar place. 

V. 

No thought, though, of his heavenly lord, 
Is in the Noble's heart enshrined, 

No echo of the Temple's grace. 

No beauty of the lovely vase. 
Transforms his haughty mind. 

VI. 
He sees his lady's bamboo screen, 

Her kakemono spread ; 
A picture fair is painted there. 
So life-like, one could almost swear. 

It were a babe instead. 

VII. 
There is an ancient prophecy, 

E'er since his house began, 
"A picture casts the evil eye 
Upon the childless Samurai, 

The last of all his clan." 

VIII. 
"Oh, guard my kakemono well," 

His lady she implored, 
" Prom vague presentiments that chafe 
My soul, I fear it is not safe, 

My honorable lord. 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



IX. 
" The gods have granted us no son, 

No babe this bosom bore, 
But I have given mv mother heart 
Unto this beauteous child of Art, 

And love it daily more. 

X. 

"The merchant came, and in his eyes 

There was the greed of Hell, 
Then, growing bold, he offered gold, 
And jewels that it might be sold 
To him,— I would not sell. 

XL 

"He tempted me, he threatened me. 

His eyes blinked like a snake, 
Give me thine oath upon thy sword. 
His offers both to spurn, my lord." 
He swore it for her sake. 

XH. 

The Samurai, his gaze is fixed 

Upon the painted child, 
The colors of its limbs are fresh, 
They glow, they grow, like living flesh, 

And lo ! the eyes, they smiled. 

XIH. 
They smiled, ah no ! it cannot be. 

And yet he could have sworn, 
The light of life he saw reply 
In glances from each painted eye. 

As lovely as the Morn. 



XIV. 
The limbs uncurl, the image moves, 

Is he awake or dreaming ? 
A voice comes from those pictured lips, 
And from the kakemono slips 

The child, or is it seeming ? 

XV. 
Into his arms it quickly climbs, 

A demon thing or sainted ? 
And on the kakemono's space, 
There now is left a vacant place, 

Where once its form was painted. 

XVI. 

It nestles in the Samurai's arms, 

With elfin glee and caper, 
It is so light, the thistle down 
Fhes heavier in the wild wind's frown, 

It is more light than paper. 

XVII. 

With wonder, then, the Samurai 

Enfolds it to his breast, 
Butlo! it larger, heavier grows, 
And ere th' astonished warrior knows, 

A ton in weight has pressed ! 

XVIII. 

His arms unclasp, th' increasing bulk 

Slips downward to the floor, 
Then with a bound, but without sound, 
Like shadows o'er the grassy ground, 
It vanishes through the door. 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



XIX. 

Still lonely sits the Samurai, 

The lights burn dim and die, 
So wonder-struck, he sits and sees 
The moon fade out, and through the trees 
The sun rise in the sky. 

XX. 

And yet he marvels, if, perchance, 

He had a vision seen, 
But no, for where it once had shone. 
There is no picture gleaming on 

The desecrated screen. 

XXI. 

And with the morrow came his wife, 

Attended by her feudal men, 
He heard them up the village street, 
And hastened to the gate, to greet 

His lady home again. 

XXII. 

But when she saw the rifled screen, 
She cried with loud bewailing. 
Why hast thou made this sale abhorred ? 

Why have, oh honorable lord. 
My prayers been unavailing ? 

XXIII. 
** Why has the merchant's yellow gold 

Been worthier in thine eyes. 
Than my poor heart's maternal love. 
Which loved my pictured child above 

All other earthly prize ?" 



THE SAMURAI. 



XXIV. 

The Samurai then told the story, 

His vassals standing by, 
The wife continued still to griere, 
She never could his words believe, 

But deemed his tale a lie. 

XXV. 
And, then, to dissipate her doubt, 

He swore upon his Honor's sword ; 
E'en yet the wife refused her faith. 
And held, while he grew pale as Death, 

A liar in her lord. 

XXVI. 

And with details of deep insult, 
She said, with sobs between. 

" The merchant's gold ! the merchant's 
gold! 

My lord the kakemono sold. 
This is another screen!" 



10 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



CANTO SECOND. 



Part I. 
I. 

A LIE is like the spotted plague, 

It murders Faith and Hope, 
To g'entle Love it heralds Death, 
And smothers, with its venomous breath, 

The flowers on Youth's green slope. 

II. 
It poisons, like the upas tree, 

The crystal wells of Life, 
It sunders friends and ruins homes, 
And like the deadly simoom comes 

Between a man and wife. 

III. 
Wisteria-Flower, she loved her lord, 

Yet more suspicioned him. 
Through darkened windows looked the 

wife, — 
The landscape of her husband's life 
Spread grey, to her, and grim. 

IV. 

She fled his room to sleep alone, 

She saw him an adept 
In other lies and still more vile, — 
But oft he tiptoed in awhile 

To watch her as she slept. 



11 



THE SAMURAI. 



Y. 

Asleep in beauty ! Fair the face, 

From raven crown to chin. 
That, through Time's haze, recalled the 

days 
When not to praise were want of grace, 

And not to love were sin. 

VI. 

One lovely arm embraced her hair, 

The other by her side, 
And when she breathed her bosom rose, 
Like seas wave-wreathed, beneath the 
clothes, 

And white as wifely pride. 

VII. 

And, as he gazed, oft through his heart, 

Strange feelings shot past uttering, 
As some hawk-threatened bird despairs. 
And, then a stranger's mercy dares, 
And in his hand sits fluttering. 

VIII. 
He wrestled with his thoughts by day, 

And dreamed by night, until 
Their burden overpowered his strength, 
His body could not bear, at length. 

The conflict, and fell ill. 

IX. 

Three days the heat of fever seethed 

Within the Samurai's brain, 
A blot he fancied on his sword. 
That made e'en life a thing abhorred, 

And maddened with a stain. 



12 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



X. 

And still the wife refused to heed, 

And still she scoffed his oath; 
It seemed a visionary tale, 
But ban and bale trod in its trail, 
And sorrow for them both. 

XI. 

No more his sword he girded on. 

Nor walked with men of lineage high, 
But Hke an Aino tramp he dressed, 
And slept 'neath trees where wild birds 
nest, 
No covering but the sky. 

XIL 

His eyes held vigils with the stars, 

And shone as weirdly bright, 
Where Darkness dies, in orient skies. 
He watched the sun each morning rise. 
Behind the mountain height. 

XIII. 
He strode amid the serried ranks 

Of lilies, in the Summer, thick. 
And dreamed of sanguinary hours, 
Beheading, wild, th' unsullied flowers, 

With his unwhittled stick. 

XIV- 

In Winter, with the snow-winged wind, 

His reason half returned, 
And then, a pilgrim up the height 
Of Fusij^ama, gleaming white. 

His soul with ardor burned. 



13 



XV. 

Long and disheveled was his hair, 

His nails like talons grew, 
A farmer's coat of straw he wore, 
And all his tattered garments bore 

The wrack of sun and dew. 

XYI. 

The peak of Fusiyama rears 

Its icy crown on high, 
To veil its awful face from man, 
The gods unfold a snow-white fan, 

And hang it from the sky. 

XVII. 

The Sun's hot rays, from molten gold, 

Remove it not by day ; 
Nor can the Night's bright myriad 

spheres, — 
A thousand times a thousand years, 

Has seen it there alway. 

XVIII. 
For ages up the bleak ascent, 

What million feet have trod, 
To find but desolation there. 
As 'twere impiety to dare 

To spy the haunts of God. 

XIX. 

But bravely on the Samurai climbed. 
Though footsore, wan and bowed. 
The sun uprose, the sun went down. 
Five thousand feet below, the town. 
Was hidden by the cloud. 



14 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



XX. 

Pursuing still, the pilorim path, 

His onward way he pressed, 
The stinging cold, the freezing gales, 
They smite him with a thousand flails, 
On face and leg and breast. 

XXI. 

Of blackened cinders was the way, 

And, as he reached the top. 
The bosky road was sheathed with ice, 
'Twas lifeless, — save some little mice, 

That from his staff did hop. 

XXII. 

'Twas lifeless else, — no spear of grass 

Uprose in living green, 
The boreal bloom, whose blossoms blow. 
E'en in the rifts of Alpine snow. 

Decked not that sterile scene. 

XXIII. 

For Desolation there had reared 

A frightful throne for Death, 
'Tis made of lava and the rock, 
Cast up by the Volcano's shock, 

Or powdered by its breath. 

XXIV. 

The throne leans o'er the dreadful edge. 

Where yawns the crater vast, 
Its black walls deep, unfathomable. 
With yellow streaks, like flames of Hell, 
In crystal columns glassed. 



THE SAMURAI. 



XXV. 

Oh, horrid is the Silence there, 
That crushes down the soul, 
So through the cold, black void of Space, 
The burnt-out planets run their race, 
To their predestined goal. 

XXVI. 

And there he stood, and as he stood, 

Time to its end seetiied come, 
The bh)od congealed within his veins. 
His heart-beats stopped, he lost his 
pains, 
His very soul grew numb. 

XXVII. 

He seemed projected from himself. 

Impersonal, — his being 
Was part of that which 'round him lies. 
Was it Nirvana ? even his eyes 

Beheld all without seeing. 

XXVIII, 
Is that the drear dead moon down- 
dropped, 
That from its orbit fell ? 
Or has the sun risen twice or thrice ? 
Is Day imprisoned in the ice ? 
His spirit could not tell. 

XXIX. 

How long the time, how short the time, 

He never knew, — at last 
His blood again began to melt. 
His heart redealt in rhythm, — he felt, — 

A step he heard go past. 



16 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



XXX. 

As consciousness returned, he looked, 

Before him stood a priest, 
A Buddhist priest, who motioned him 
To see down drowsy distance dim, 

The Day break in the East. 

XXXI. 

The priest then clasped the Samurai' 
hand, 

'' Come, follow me," he said, 
"There is a spell on all our race 
Who gaze on Fusiyama's face, 

That holds them by its dread." 

XXXII. 

Then, to the Station of the Top, 

He led him weak and pale, 
And set out sugared cakes with spice, 
And apricots and wine of rice. 

And listened to his tale. 



Part II. 



I. 

'* My son," began the reverend man, 

" 'Tis surely more than folly, 
To seek to change a woman's mind, 
More easy 'tis to change the wind, 
Then cease thy melancholy. 



17 



THE SAMURAI. 



II. 

"Truth needs no oath to prove its cause, 

No sword to spread its word, 
The children of the Truth give ear, 
And when the truth is spoken, hear, 
Beheving when averred. 

III. 
" Who speaks the truth clasps hands 
with God, 
Who made the worlds by truth. 
He built with balance and with line, 
The weights of stars, their paths to shine, 
His judgment and His ruth. 

IV. 
"How oft the flowersfeed at their hearts. 

The blight that blasts their bloom ! 
So error e'er, and Falsehood too, 
Breed in themselves their penal due. 

And ever hatch their doom." 

V. 

" But," said the Samurai, '* alas ! 

I have no joy in life, 
I loathe my home, 'tis drear and cold, 
Unless I can my word uphold, 

And prove it to my wife." 

YI. 

"He fights with the high gods, indeed," 

Replied the Buddhist priest, 
"Who being in the right and free. 
With health and wealth, can say, that he 

Finds joy in life has ceased. 



18 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



VII. 

"No soul can bind another's mind, 

Another's right undo, 
The Sea is thine, the Earth is thine, 
The Sky's blue dome, the Suns that shine, 

Are all made for thee, too. 

VIII. 
" The Rich build palaces,— walk by, 
^ Each window, roof, and door. 
Each stately arch and colonnade 
Each terraced lawn, the trees that shade, 
Are thine,— go view them o'er. 

IX . 

" The ladies' grand parade of dress. 

Look on, nor reck who wears, 
Upon their soft, white hands, the rings. 
If there is pleasure in such things. 
Is thine as well as their's. 

X. 
•' Man is the master of his fate. 

And carves his future, then, 
Joy is the radiance of the soul, 
O'er which no other has control ; 

Regain thyself again. 

XI, 

"But," said the Sage, becoming grave, 

"If thou would'st hasten Fate, 
There is conviction for thy wife. 
Although the proof will cost thy life, 
If thou anticipate." 



19 



THE SAMURAL 



XII. 

With sparkling eyes, the Samurai, 

" Oh grant to me this boon, 
Declare to me the way, that I 
May prove my word e'en though I die, 

I care not then, how soon !" 

XIII. 

" Each semblance of a Hving thing," 
The priest said, " has a soul, 

These half souls whirl through formless 
space, 

Oh, piteous is their awful case ! 
Unless they find their goal. 

XIV. 

"Aye, piteous is their awful case! 

The half souls never thrive, 
Benumbed with cold or scorched with 

heat. 
Save they their painted bodies meet, 

Then they become alive. 

XV. 

" E'en then to serve is still their doom, 

They are but half souls still, 
The dead can call them in the tomb, 
And cold abortions in the womb. 

Can make them work their will. 

XVI. 

"In that the Babehad sought thine arms, 

And cuddled near thy heart. 
Then grew so heavy that, perforce. 
Thy strength could not delay its course. 

When once it would depart — 



20 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



XVII. 
" It answered to the call of Fate, 

That binds both gods and men, 
Some babe that at the Gate of Birth, 
Had grown too weak for air of Earth, 

It took its office then. 

XVIII. 

"Return to thine ancestral place. 

And, if unreconciled, 
Let search be made without delay. 
To trace the infant born that day. 

And thou wilt find thy child." 



21 



THE SAMURAI. 



CANTO THIHr*. 



I. 

Within the Samurai's high walls, 

A thousand lanterns burned, 
It was a feast, — the Music's sound, 
Proclaimed to all the village 'rouad, 
The Master had returned. 

II. 

It was the hour named for the Ox, 

They held high w^assail then ; 
When suddenly, at the door, appeared 
A Bonze with a fantastic beard. 
The most grotesque of men. 

III. 

His clothes were rent, his form was bent. 

His visage from long fasting lean, 
And in his arms, a child he bore. 
Whose infant charms, unconscious, wore 
(Asleep) , a smile serene. 

IV. 

The music ceased, around the priest. 

The startled revelers flocked, appalled, 
"This is the child, this the hour. 
Go fetch thy wife, Wisteria-Flower, 
Oh Samurai," he called. 



ILofC. ^^ 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



V. 
The wife she came,— "Now quickly bring 

The kakemono in," 
They brought it, still a vacant space 
Showed where, in place, a thing of grace, 

The painted child had been. 

VL 

He bade them both to bow themselves 

Upon the shining floor. 
Then, from his ragged vesture, took 
A mirror bronze, and lightly shook 

The sacred incense o'er. 

VII. 

And lo ! a cloud that larger grew 

Until it filled the room. 
And lo ! the sleeping child took flight, 
Up from his bosom, in their sight, 

It floated through the gloom. 

VIII. 

The Samurai held out his arms, 

It nestled there and smiled. 
Then toward the kakemono flew, 
And growing smaller in their view, 

Leaned there, a tiny child. 

IX. 

Then slowly, as the perfumed clouds 

Of incensf* were dissolved in air, 
The roses whitened on its cheek, 
The life within its limbs grew weak, 
It stood a picture there. 



23 



THE SAMURAI. 



X. 

"Behold Wisteria-Flower!" exclaimed 

The seer, "Behold, in sooth, 
Before thine eyes, the mystic child, 
Back to its painted form beguiled, 

Behold thy husband's truth ! 

XI. 

"A life for life, the heavenly law. 

Unchangeable! exact! 
The way may be obscure and long. 
But yet for every deed of wrong, 

The gods of vengeance act. 

XII. 

"They see not with the eyes of men, 

Nor judge by mortal law. 
The nets of Retribution close 
Unseen, unfelt, except by those 

Around whose lives they draw. 

XIII 

"And yet, though poverty be sore, 

And illness seem like doom, 
Oh, deem not these, nor Death, though 

sad. 
Their judgment — for the good and bad 

Speed likewise to the tomb. 

XIV. 
" And Death is here ! his grisly shade 

1 see, then stand aside." 
The wife rose Up, the husband too, 
But save the Samurai none knew 

The penance of his pride. 



2-i 



A JAPANESE WONDER TALE. 



XV. 

Then spoke tlie Samurai, "This night 

My honor is restored, 
Yet still I bear my past distress, 
Life without love is bitterness." 

And fell upon his sword. 

XVI. 

This is the tale as it was writ 

By some old monkish pen. 
It adds that pale Wisteria-Flower 
Wore mourning till her dying hour 

And never smiled till then. 



25 



— «>^||eJ^v»^ 



PRESS OF RSOHARD PICKERING, 
BROOKLYN, N. Y. 



LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 




